I am tired of carrying the weight of a five-years-guilt that is not mine to bear.

My mother wished she could hold

my entire world in the palms of her hands,

but I slipped through and you were waiting,

thinking you could catch me as I fell.

You were raised to hear music in thunderclaps,

couldn’t, wouldn’t see the oceans

rising inside my ribcage

when you made off with something

that wasn’t yours to take.

My outstretched arms were never invitations.

I was trying to learn how to fly.

Some days I eat cherries until

my lips turn red

and covers the scars I made by biting my tongue;

swallow the pits until they fill my stomach,

until I no longer rattle with the echoing sound of my silent no

that was not a yes

Other days I pluck petals from daisies

asking each time if you have ruined me

or not,

and when the field is full of shredded flowers,

I will still not have my answer.

Later, I paste the petals back on one by one,

whispering

I am forgiven,

knowing they will end up like me,

clumsy and imperfect,

but whole.

On Being a Woman at Night

I’m talking about keys

clenched between knuckles,

back straight,

eyes forward,

Teeth bared.

I’m talking about walk fast,

walk fast,

walk faster.

Don’t look, don’t react.

I’m talking about Baby, Sweetheart, Sugar,

(Endearments my mother called me turned sour in the mouths of men)

I’m talking about being named.

Hands balled into fists,

Voice a siren.

My body is mine.

My body is a weapon.

They cannot hurt me

They cannot hurt me

They cannot hurt me

(They can)

I’m talking about 13 years old

and somebody whistling,

expecting me to obey.

I have grown up under the watchful eyes of men,

not all of them kind.

Sometimes womanhood isn’t a choice.

My parents didn’t lie:

There are no monsters under the bed.

They are out on the street,

lurking in the half-light,

waiting to turn me into something they can consume.

Elena Torry-Schrag is a junior at Macalester College, majoring in Psychology and Educational Studies. She has the supreme pleasure of being a social media assistant for this wonderful magazine. When not doing homework, Elena can be found running around the streets of St. Paul, listening to the “Hamilton” soundtrack, and watching too much Netflix. Her favorite authors are Meggie Royer and Cheryl Strayed.